Quickie
by TaylorGibbs
Summary: When Tony comes home from being undercover, Gibbs is torn between desire and protectiveness. Gibbs/Tony


"I need you!" Gibbs whispered the words against Tony's throat, the elevator jerking to a start. Gibbs barely noticed, his mouth on the soft skin of Tony's neck, freshly shaved, paler than his upper chest, but by such a slight difference in shade that only Gibbs probably noticed. There had been a golden-brown beard there earlier, and Gibbs loved the feel of the soft flesh, only the barest hint of stubble below the surface, the skin clean and smelling vaguely of Tony's shave gel.

"Boss!" Tony gasped out, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. 

"Missed you," Gibbs admitted, smiling against Tony's flesh before nuzzling it, slow motions designed to make the other man groan. His hand reached out to flick the switch, grinding the elevator to a stop.

Tony shifted again, thumping his head against the metal wall of the elevator. "Gibbs…" he began, his tone half-begging, half-panicked. They didn't do this at work. Ever. But these were special circumstances, and Gibbs had no patience whatsoever. Not right now.

"Off the clock now," Gibbs reminded. It was a technicality, but they were off work, even if they weren't off premises. "Just gotta get ya home."

"Home?" Tony replied, his voice sounding confused. For a second, he looked lost, then he physically snapped back into himself, setting his jaw and nodding. "Home." Gibbs stroked a gentle hand down Tony's back, soothing him and trying to bring him back to himself. When Tony regarded him, a soft smile on his face, Gibbs started to relax.

"Home," Gibbs replied. "C'mon, DiNozzo. My house. Our house. You're off the clock now. Relax. The mission is over." Gibbs' hand smoothed through Tony's red hair, fingering the strands at the nape gently. He wanted—needed—Tony so much, but he had to remember that his lover needed to come down from the mission too, that Tony was likely to be shaken up for a few days. That Tony needed gentle handling while he settled back in to his life.

Tony lifted his head, resting it in Gibbs' hand. He sighed deeply, nodding. "It's over." Even though it was a statement, Gibbs knew his 2IC was having a tough time coming back to himself.

Words wouldn't be enough, but they were a start. "Yeah, it is. You're coming home."

Tony'd been undercover for a long time—months, just shy of a year. Gibbs knew how hard it was for his lover to come back to his reality after being gone, after being in a criminal world for so long.

And the mission had been a tough one, Tony helping to break a smuggling ring that stretched up and down the East Coast, trafficking stolen items from the warzone in the Middle East. It hadn't been Tony's first rodeo, or even his first time undercover in the last few years. But it had been Tony's deepest mission at NCIS thus far, and one of the longest anyone on Gibbs' team had been a part of.

DiNozzo's cover had been that of a low-level art dealer, working in Iraq. Not only had he discovered Iraqi and Afghani antiquities being "misplaced". He had also helped track a never-ending but slow moving stream of art, gold, and jewelry that stretched across the world and across several branches of the armed forces. Back home, the team had needed to work with Army CID, and Gibbs knew that other agencies would be brought in once the scope was fully determined. It was going to take time and energy to unravel all the threads, to put it all back together again, but the teams had all the evidence they needed, and Tony was back stateside.

None of the details mattered right now. He needed to get his boy home and de-stressed.; that was the most important—only—thing on his agenda. Gibbs had left Ziva and McGee to catalogue all the physical evidence—photos that needed developing, tapes that needed transcribing—while Tony got a mandatory twenty-four hours off. And Gibbs was going along with him.

Nobody had raised an eyebrow when Gibbs had declared to Vance that he was taking some time off as well. The team accepted Gibbs' protectiveness over his team and knew he would have done the same for McGee, and probably would have even sent someone home with Ziva, though it wouldn't have been him. He was too hard headed and they clashed too much for Gibbs to bring her back from being undercover.

Nobody seemed to have figured out that Gibbs and Tony had become involved a few years ago, when Tony'd almost died from the plague. It had been hard keeping quiet throughout the changes in their lives—Gibbs' Mexico stay, Hollis Mann and Jeanne, Tony's undercover mission, Jenny's death, Tony going afloat. At least this undercover op had allowed Gibbs to move Tony in, and nobody had arched a brow when Gibbs mentioned Tony not having to pay rent for a long time while his apartment was vacant. The undercover op had been open-ended, and it had been a lot easier for Gibbs to maintain Tony's household expenses under his own.

And now…

Now Gibbs could move back into the master bedroom and their king-sized bed. It hadn't felt right for Gibbs to sleep in it alone, when he had no idea when Tony would be back. _Or if,_ a small voice reared up and said before Gibbs squashed it, his hand clenching Tony's neck reflexively until the other man gasped, his eyes widening.

Gibbs grunted and released Tony's neck, his arousal banked for the moment. "Our bed. When I knew you were on a plane back, I made the bed up. Your sheets." The six-hundred thread Egyptian cotton ones that cost a lot more than the ones Gibbs bought at Penny's. Even more than the bedding he'd splurged on at Macy's. Tony liked luxury and Gibbs had come to accept it a well. Whatever made Tony happy was just fine with Gibbs, within reason.

"Missed that," Tony admitted, burrowing deeper into his leather jacket, nudging his shoulder against Gibbs'. After the desert heat, the late November DC cold seemed to be hitting him extra hard. "Missed you." There was a plaintive note to his voice now, and Gibbs found himself thinking more about protecting Tony rather than screwing him into those expensive sheets.

Gibbs nodded, knowing he was telegraphing his thoughts and emotions to Tony. He didn't have to say words—they never really needed them. "Pizza," Gibbs finally said, making it a statement rather than a question. "And beer. You and me tonight. Sleep in tomorrow. I'll crank the heat up high."

"Sounds great," Tony replied. His eyes closed slowly and he nodded, a little smile crossing his face. Suddenly, he didn't look weary and drained. "Missed all of this."

"I know," Gibbs replied, his fingers carding through Tony's hair. "Gonna get ya fed and then…" he trailed off, allowing Tony to decide how things went from there.

"Bed," Tony replied, his smile beginning to touch his eyes as well as his mouth. "I'm dyed red all over, Gibbs. Can't wait to show you." 

Gibbs couldn't get Tony's comment out of his mind. The pizza had taken over an hour to arrive, despite them calling it in on the drive home, and Tony'd wanted a long shower after that.

Gibbs had gotten hard when Tony'd made the comment in the elevator and he'd stayed hard most of the night. Okay, he'd gotten soft when they were eating. Melted cheese and sausage on tomato sauce didn't do much for him, but the images of Tony red _all over_ were doing things to his psyche. Things that tested even his control. It had been too long since he'd had a night alone with Tony, and he was itching to take advantage of those freshly washed sheets and his new redhead.

As soon as Tony had gotten into the shower, Gibbs had shucked his clothes. He'd dropped into a chair near his bed, bringing Tony's leather jacket close. The scent of his lover mixed with the distinctive smell of leather was enough to drive him crazy.

Gibbs let the jacket trail over his chest and abdomen, one sleeve resting gently on his balls, brushing over the sensitive skin, teasing but stopping short of harder stimulation. Gibbs growled but didn't allow himself to move or rub himself against the leather. He was savin' it up for Tony.

The other man hadn't allowed Gibbs a glimpse of what he wanted to see, and Gibbs sure as hell wanted to take a long look. Instead, Tony had locked the bathroom door, stripping down in privacy. Gibbs wasn't sure if it was that Tony was still coming up from being so far undercover, or if Tony was just waiting for the opportune time to introduce Gibbs to his redhead—red all over.

He worried about the first and suspected the second. At least he hoped that was what it was. Tony would need some time to relax back into his life, and Gibbs had to hope it wouldn't be as hard as he feared it could be. Tony was giving him positive feedback, making Gibbs hope that he was going to come back and settle himself back into his real self without a lot of bumps along the way.

And Tony'd flirted with him on the drive home and at dinner, moaning around each bite of pizza, groaning through every sip of Dominion ale. And when he was done with the pizza, he'd licked every finger clean, slurping on them until he'd hardened Gibbs again, pizza and tomato sauce be damned.

Gibbs growled, patience wearing thin. Even though the bathroom door was locked, he could be in there in a few seconds. But Gibbs hesitated. Tony was still coming up and he wasn't gonna screw with his lover's head.

Gibbs leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes, drawing the arm of Tony's jacket over his cock and balls, hips hitching upward, feeling friction that simply wasn't there. It wasn't enough but it would have to do for now.

"Nice," Tony whispered, his voice growly and lower pitched than Gibbs expected. It sent a bolt of pure lust rocketing through his body. Gibbs snapped his eyes open, just then realizing he'd closed them. Tony was standing in front of him, a black towel resting low on his hips.

Gibbs stood in one motion, tossing the jacket on the bed.

"Hey! Italian leather."

Gibbs shrugged, already reaching for the towel. "Want to see," he explained, dropping slowly to his knees. He glanced up at Tony, the other man's eyes wide, mouth slightly open, panting breaths disturbing the air between them. The towel was tented, and Gibbs could smell Tony's need.

"And taste?" Tony's voice was strained now, and Gibbs nodded. There was no semblance of foreplay, he just yanked the towel off, exposing Tony's cock and…

Gibbs bit back a groan, sitting back on his haunches. Tony was red all over, his neatly groomed pubic hair a slightly darker red than the hair on his head. Against the tanned skin of Tony's abdomen-he was tanned all over, Gibbs realized—it should have looked silly. Instead, it worked, in a way Gibbs couldn't have expected or anticipated.

And it turned him on more than he could explain.

"Need you," he whispered, tongue traveling over Tony's moist cock head. He was seeping, pre-cum making its way down from the head. Gibbs chased a few drops, Tony's hand dropping to his head and clenching in Gibbs' short hair.

"Quickie. Take the edge off first. Hands."

"Hands?" Gibbs blinked at Tony, not understanding for a moment. All the blood had run to his cock, and there was none left over for actual thinking.

"Bed!" There was an edge of frustration in Tony's voice and Gibbs winced when the other man dug long fingers into his hair and tugged sharply.

Gibbs found himself sprawled out on the bed, rutting into Tony's hand, without any really clear idea how he'd gotten there. He arched off the bed far enough to see their cocks in Tony's hand, his longer, Tony's thicker, their balls mashed against each other's salt and pepper hair rubbing against russet.

"Tony!" Gibbs gasped out.

He dug his fingers into the tensed muscles of Tony's shoulders, hanging on and stabilizing the other man as their cocks thrust into Tony's two-handed grip, their lubrication helping to ease the way.

Gibbs groaned, and Tony joined him, their sounds of need ebbing and pitching, the harmony of their voices somehow soothing to Gibbs. He stared into Tony's eyes for a long moment and then looked down, eyes locked on their cocks. He was close, as was Tony.

"Come on, Red," Gibbs urged, bucking up, trying to get that last bit of friction to tip himself over the edge.

"Gibbs!" Tony's grip tightened and Gibbs dropped his head on Tony's shoulder, his own climax boiling at the pit of his spine.

"Come on, Red!"

"With you! Only…with you! Nobody else, Gibbs.'

"Waiting…"

"Don't!" Tony choked out. Gibbs growled, mouth moving against Tony's neck, body bucking, exploding all over Tony's fingers, their chests. He might have been responsible for the dribble of cum on Tony's cheek, but he had no idea. Every pleasure center was on overload and he could just ride through it.

A few minutes later, Gibbs gazed at Tony, a little smile playing around his lover's face. "That was great," he remarked. His breathing was slowly returning to normal. They were sticky and needed a shower, but his boy was home. And he was red all over.

Tony grinned, squeezing Gibbs' hand with his sticky one. "Not bad for a quickie."

"Not bad at all. But it's just a start, DiNozzo."

"Promise?" Tony asked, ducking playfully as Gibbs' hand came close. Everything was going to be fine now. His boy was home.


End file.
